She came back to herself slowly, swaying side to side with him. His chest was vibrating against her ear, and now that she had regained some of her cognitive functions she realised that he was humming softly. She was strangely touched that he was addressing the one complaint that she'd managed to make before he'd pulled her into this. they had music.

He murmured softly, "You shouldn't let yourself get so pent up Lisbon."

That pulls a chuckle from her, but despite her best efforts it's a raw broken sound, "yeah."

Jane continued, his voice in that same soft beguiling tone that seemed to soothe over her hurts like honey, "Everyone has their little stress reliefs. Rigsby plays videogames. Cho reads mystery novels. Van pelt takes long baths and plays her music obnoxiously loud."

Part of her, a silly jealous part flares up at that. Wondering how he could possibly know about Van pelts bathing habits. But before she can think of anything to say that doesn't just smack of jealousy he continues.

"But you? You just bottle up until you meltdown. That is not a healthy way to do it."

"And you would know?" She questions, a slightly sarcastic lilt to her tone.

He chuckles, and the sound reverberates in his chest, bringing an unwanted smile to her lips, "Fair point, I suppose."

Slowly her hands unclench, but she doesn't lift her head and she doesn't retreat. Her eyes are red and even though he's just felt her cry she's still hesitant to look up. To show him that vulnerability in herself.

"Why-"

Her throat clenches painfully, and she coughs to clear it, "Why did you do this?"

They sway for a moment longer before he gathers himself enough to answer, "Is it not enough to say that we're friends? That you needed this?"

But that isn't the whole story, and for once she can't accept another half truth from him.

"Jane."

He lets out a sound that's half exasperation and half amused fondness. He pulls back abruptly and places his hands on the sides of her face, forcing her to look up at him. For a second she's worried that she's overstepped. That she's somehow done something to shatter their hard-won peace. Almost immediately she wants to look away, she despises being seen this vulnerable. But his gaze captures her, keeps her frozen in place. Because what she's seeing she cannot explain.

There's so much in his eyes. conflicting emotions that dance across the sea green surface, flickering like fire. and she's trying to follow them, to catch them and catalogue them like butterflies. But they flicker in and out, like smoke, and the second she tries to capture one it slips between her fingers and escapes.

He leans forward and presses the softest of kisses to her lips. It's the most gentle chaste kiss she's ever received. And yet it means so much more than all the others. And suddenly pieces click into place. Scattered confused fragments of a story that had never made sense on their own ,and had tormented her, suddenly fit into place and she understood.

She understood everything he wasn't telling her. Everything that he couldn't tell her, at least not yet. and as he pulls back all those emotions she had seen in his eyes are clearer now. Her lips curl in a brilliant smile, like a child on Christmas morning. And he matches it, eyes crinkling at the corners.

And then he takes her hands in his and pulls her into a stumbling carefree kind of dance. There's no music, and outside her office there are at least a dozen weary cops, not to mention her team. All of whom would have noticed how long her door had been shut and the blinds had been drawn. The rumour mill would be going mad.

But she cannot find it within herself to care about that. Not when he's so deliciously warm in her arms. Not when they're having this kind of fun. What she cares about are those stumbling whirling clumsy steps in a dance that defines them.

It's messy. Uncoordinated and just a little silly. But at the end of the day it's the best dance she's had the good fortune to dance. He's stepping along, leading her. But she's still throwing in her fair share of surprises. And even though the steps are new and the dance unplanned, they never step on each other's toes.

Dancing doesn't make everything better. The pain is still there, lingering like some foul smoke in the corners of her mind. Perhaps all this will do is make their next day harder when reality intrudes. When they must once again step back into their respective distant roles and pretend that there is nothing but friendship between them.

But for now?

For now she'll take a dance and a kiss in her office.

She'll take it and squirrel it away in her memories to hold her through the darker days ahead. Let the rest of the world be damned.

One day they'll be free to say the words. One day Red John wont be an issue, and they can explore this the right way.

But until then?

Until then, there's always the next dance.

Authors note: I hope you enjoyed this :D and thank you kindly for the reviews. i hope you'll continue to do so even though this is completed.

As for the delay i can only apologize, i've been flat out the last week or so, with a meeting with a writing group and preparations for my fourth year of university.

Until next time,

Madam Red.